


And I'm certain, I'd do anything for you

by Jsscshvlr



Series: It's immortality, darling. [1]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Flirting, Michelle Jones is a Little Shit, Peter is a Little Shit, Vampire!MJ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26586766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jsscshvlr/pseuds/Jsscshvlr
Summary: I don't have to listen to your whimpering talk, listen you got the kind of eyes that do more than see, you got a lotta nerve to come on to me,  you got the kind of lips that do more than drink,  you got the kind of mind that does less than think.Oh no, she’s dangerously attractive. He lets out a deep breath, using his strength to ensure she can’t see how dramatic his chest is heaving. She smirks like she might have noticed, he’s not sure how. She hasn’t dropped her gaze. He’s used to girls, in particular, being shyer than this. Usually, there’s some downtime to plan his next move while they walk over to him. She hasn’t moved at all.He sips his drink, he can win this. Whatever this is. He’s got superhuman abilities, he doesn’t need to blink. He has got this.She winks at him.He chokes.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Series: It's immortality, darling. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1993975
Comments: 32
Kudos: 63
Collections: The Spideychelle Shuffle





	And I'm certain, I'd do anything for you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Machiavelien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Machiavelien/gifts).



> for my giiiirl, Machi.

It’s a standard Saturday, the music’s too loud and the tequila is watered down, which isn’t helping with his already difficult ability to get drunk. Peter orders four more shots as he waits for Harry to turn up. Picking up girls is their thing. Sue him, it’s fun. Yeah, they’re 27, but he’s never found someone that makes him want to settle down. He’s aware, thank you May, that the chances of him finding ‘the one’ in a seedy downtown bar is about as likely as someone shapeshifting. But hey, he’s Spiderman, so weirder things have happened. 

Besides, going home with a different person each night isn’t actually the worst thing that’s ever happened to him. He has an exceedingly fun time. Sure, he enjoys the times when his one-night stand accidentally spends the night, he always has high plans to ask them to coffee, but unsurprisingly, they’re only there for sex. Rude, he has more to offer than his body. Maybe. Probably, if he could hold a conversation with anyone without his senses catching him out and latching on to something else. 

His lack of partner might also be down to his ‘ridiculously long list of demands’, thank you, Ned. So he knows what he wants? Where’s the shame in that? Sure, finding someone who likes to spend the night awake, because that’s usually when he is up anyway, is hard. Sure, finding someone who is immune to being killed, because the thought of losing someone he finally fell in love with, is devastating. Sure, finding someone that needs him, just as badly as he knows he’ll need them, is near on impossible. So sue him, he’s picking up girls, guys and NB’s all over town. 

He’s downed his last shot, so he orders a whiskey, a drink he knows makes him look good. 

_ What? It’s true! _

Harry still hasn’t arrived, so Peter assumes he already got lucky. It’s 11:30 and on his designated night off, he’s looking to home soon. And not alone. He scans the room, heightened eyesight coming in strong.  _ Sue him, _ he may or may not use his senses to help him in the getting lucky department. Not creepily! Just, noticing whether or not people are playing hard to get. Are they flushing? A feat humans wouldn’t be able to see in the light of the club, but he can pick out easily. Is their heart rate increasing, or are they bored as sin? He knows when to push his hair back when to hold their gaze. He knows the exact time he should offer them a drink. He knows when the perfect time to ask them if they wanna get out of here. He also knows how to make them tick in the bedroom. It’s his superhuman talents. 

He does not know, how to get them to stay.

He’s scanning the room when he sees her. Is he sweating? He feels like he’s sweating. He usually catches someone’s eye and then waits for them to come to him, pretending he hasn’t noticed them before when they get to the bar. Sue him, it works. He never said he wasn’t a bit of an arsehole. He’s been friends with Harry for a decade, it was bound to happen. 

She’s leaning against the wall, wearing a lace bodysuit, and a, God help him, black velvet suit. He’s never seen someone so beautiful. He doesn’t need the superhuman eyesight to see it. He knows everyone else can see it, he can hear them talking. He’s unreasonably annoyed about it. Why does he feel so protective of her? He can tell she’d hate it, he’s not sure how. Maybe it’s in the way she carries herself, the way it seems like she was born to do exactly whatever she wants.

He’s staring. He knows this. He’s completely out of his depth. He’s nowhere near her and he desperately wants to be. Whilst dreaming about a totally cool way to introduce himself, her head tilts up and she meets his eyes. Are they tinted red?

Oh no, she’s dangerously attractive. He lets out a deep breath, using his strength to ensure she can’t see how dramatic his chest is heaving. She smirks like she might have noticed, he’s not sure how. She hasn’t dropped her gaze. He’s used to girls, in particular, being shyer than this. Usually, there’s some downtime to plan his next move while they walk over to him. She hasn’t moved at all. 

He sips his drink, he can win this. Whatever this is. He’s got superhuman abilities, he doesn’t need to blink. He has got this. 

She winks at him.

He chokes. Physically chokes on his whiskey. Goddammit. Not only has he lost whatever the fuck that was, but there’s no way he can talk to her now. Is there whiskey on his shirt? What in the ever-loving fuck, is happening. He’s mortified. He wants to go home. The issue is, he still wants to go home with her. 

For the first time in an exceptionally long time, he wants to talk to her, get to know her, learn everything she’s willing to tell him. I mean, he will still fuck her if the opportunity arises, he has eyes. Superhuman eyes. 

“Okay, okay, how can I make this better? Maybe she likes pricks who spill their entire drink down themselves?”

“I do like a good prick.” Someone says from beside him, with a hint of humour in their voice.

Holy shit. It’s her. She’s next to him. How did she get there so fast? Why didn’t his senses notify him that she was on her way over?! Selfish. Rude. 

“Erm, hi.” He manages to get out. She is unreasonably stunning from this close. 

“Hey.” Her voice is his favourite thing. Sorry, May’s apple pie. Sorry, Ned’s birthday cards. 

This is fine. He can do this. Reign the senses back in, and work off the game plan. Sure, the game plan has never been tested on someone who looks anywhere near as good as she does, but it’ll work right? It’s just science. Listen for the heartbeat, the blush, the glances. Let’s do this. Go, team!

“Do I have something on my face?” Mystery girl says, tilting her head to the side with a contemplating smile. Goddammit, Peter. Get your head in the game! He’s pretty sure she’s not human, people don’t look like her in real life.

“No- no, nothing. Sorry.” He looks at his lap,  _ Goddammit.  _ She hums a laugh.

Okay, breather time. Listen for her heartbeat.

He can’t hear anything out of the ordinary. Strange. There must be too many people around, his senses have never failed him before. Maybe she’s not particularly bothered by his presence? I mean spitting drink down yourself doesn’t exactly say “please invite me into your home.” As if he would ever  _ not _ invite her in.

“You okay there, Tiger?” His head snaps up so fast he’s pretty sure her eyes should widen in surprise, but she doesn’t seem shocked. Huh. Up close her eyes are definitely red. It’s distractingly beautiful. 

Okay, the heartbeat is a trap. Flirt a little, make her blush.

“Yeah, it’s just. I think you have something in your eye -” he leans a little closer, misses the way her hands tense “-nevermind just a sparkle.”  _ Jesus Christ.  _ He drops his head to hands and groans out loud. Goddammit. He can flirt! He’s not lying! He really wants her to know that he is a catch, May said so! 

She laughs loudly and he is ecstatic. He did that! He feels the need to tell everyone in the bar, should he? Gather around fools! Look who I made laugh! 

He gets a good long look at her neck from where her head is thrown back in laughter and he’s never wanted to touch something more. It looks so smooth, flawless, deathly pale while still holding his favourite colour of tawny brown. Peculiar. He won’t just reach out though, that’s weird, explicit content is very sexy, thank you. 

“You can touch my neck if you like.” She says as she bites her bottom lip and he’s dead. Deceased. Is her tooth pointed? He can’t tear his gaze away from her unfairly full lips to check.

Also,  _ what? _ Can she read minds?  _ Did he say that outloud?!  _ What’s wrong with him tonight? Why are his Spidey senses not working? He needs it to work! He’ll never be able to have a conversation with her as Peter. 

“I’m Michelle.” Stunning, beautiful, flawless, wife like. 

“Peter. Parker. Peter Parker.”

Her eyes are shining so bright under the club lights and he feels the need to see them in every light imaginable. 

“Not to be forward-” he says, “-but do you wanna go-”

“Yes.”

“Yes, like, you wanna go?”

She’s laughing, but he’s pretty sure it’s not at him, “Yeah. I wanna go. Consent is sexy, after all.”

“Oh, for- God dammit.” He says pushing his hair back in exasperation, must he embarrass himself infront of her at all times?

“You’re adorable.” Michelle states matterly of factly. 

“I am?” She hums and nods in agreement while pushing him towards the exit. He can feel her hands through his shirt, she’s deathly cold. Interesting.

As they exit the club he goes to take her hand, he doesn’t even think about it, just knows that he wants to do. Wants to feel her, in any way he can. 

She intertwines their fingers, and he thinks they might be more than a club hook up. Call him desperate, call him oldfashioned, he’s pretty sure he just met the love of his life. 

He’s also pretty sure she’s a vampire. 

He’s pretty sure he doesn’t care.

She pulls him in the direction of somewhere, doesn’t matter. He’ll follow her anywhere. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Vampire!MJ is my new birth right. Thank you for your time.
> 
> Come say hi on tumblr! @i-lovethatforme
> 
> Okay love you bye x


End file.
